


Blood Moon

by bamf_Castiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Blood, Bottom Dean, M/M, Mafioso!cas, Riding, Top Castiel, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 10:04:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11757537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bamf_Castiel/pseuds/bamf_Castiel
Summary: Cas's line of work was dangerous, Dean knew that, of course.Nothing could prepare him for the sight of Cas coming home that night, though.





	Blood Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous said:  
> "Imagine Cas coming home covered in blood and Dean freaking out until Cas kisses him and promises it isn't his. And then Dean gives Cas a long slow bath and cleans him and they exchange sweet kisses until Cas pulls him in and gets Dean's clothes messy and it just kinda escalates until Cas is fucking up into Dean while Dean rides him and promises again and again that'll Dean'll always be there no matter what happens to Cas or what Cas does for a living"
> 
> I tried.

 

* * *

Dean worries constantly, feeling sick every time Cas is late or he doesn’t answer his phone. He understands too well how many things could go wrong in… Cas’s line of work. 

And then one night he not only comes home hours late, but also absolutely soaked in blood, once white dress shirt clinging to his body.   
  
Castiel never returns home like that, usually taking time to clean himself a little before he sees Dean.   
  
Dean can’t stop touching him, running his hands over the warm skin, not caring that he gets dirty in the process. He let’s Cas whisper in his ear that he’s fine, he’s okay, he’s home, he will always come back to Dean.   
  
So it’s only natural that he grabs Cas’s hand and leads him to the bathroom, where he turns on the tap and lets the bathtub fill with hot water.   
Dean slowly peels the wet clothes from Cas’s body, and Cas lets him, standing there quietly and watching his every move.   
Dean looks at the red smeared on Cas’s face; it makes his eyes seem even more blue. Dark. Dangerous.   
  
The belt lands on the floor with a quiet clack, and Dean swiftly drops to his knees, removes Cas’s shoes and socks.   
  
He let’s out a  breath.  
Their whole bathroom smells like death and blood.    
  
“Dean.”  
  
He looks up and shakes his head, and then slowly inches down Cas’s pants and underwear. Dean waits until he steps out of them and throws them next to the shirt and shoes lying on the floor. Then he slowly gets up and gestures at the bathtub; Cas goes in without a word of protest, sinking in the water with a quiet sigh.   
  
Dean turns off the tap and grabs the soap and a washcloth.   
  
He kneels on the soft rug next to the bathtub, gently takes Cas’s hands and begins to wash it. He scrubs away the blood and the dirt, slowly moving from the fingers, to the palm, to the forearm. 

He can feel Cas’s gaze on him all the time. 

When he’s satisfied with his work, he brings Cas’s hand to his lips and kisses his bruised knuckles.   
Then he moves to the other hand, methodically working his way up. 

The water turns pink, the color richer and darker with every swipe of the washcloth.   
  
He kisses Cas’s other hand, too.

He manages to wash him almost completely before the need to taste his lips becomes too much. And maybe Cas feels the same, because suddenly there are hands on his cheeks and Cas’s face is right there.  
He hears a quiet  _Dean_  and then they are kissing, sweet and unhurried and perfect.   
  
Cas’s hand slowly moves to the back of his neck, leaving wet trials on his skin, making the collar of his shirt cling to his body.  
  
Dean doesn’t care, his own hands tangled in Cas’s dark hair, the feel of Cas’s tongue moving against his own almost intoxicating.   
He doesn’t even notice he’s being pulled into the bathtub until he’s almost halfway there, up from his knees and awkwardly hovering above it.   
The hand on his neck tightens a little and with a quiet groan he goes willingly, climbing into into the bathtub and onto Cas’s thighs.  
His jeans are wet and uncomfortable but it doesn’t matter because Castiel practically purrs under him, smiling into the kiss.   
  
“ You always take such good care of me,” strong hands slowly move up Dean’s thighs until they stop on his hips, Cas’s voice low and rough, strangely intimate in the small space between them.  
  
And Dean really wants to protest because that’s not true, Cas is the one who always takes care of him. He only makes a quiet sound in the back of the throat though, well aware that arguing about that with Cas is pointless. His lack of fight is rewarded with Cas’s warm, pleased smile.   
  
He watches in fascination how the smile slowly changes into something much darker.    
  
“ Let me repay you,” Cas’s voice drops lower, his hands moving under Dean’s shirt, “ Let me take care of you, Dean.”  
  
He can feel goosebumps raise under his fingertips.

“Let me make you feel good.”

  
Dean’s breath stutters on the exhale, and he feels himself nod even before he manages a _yeah, yeah okay_.   
  
“ _Good_ ,” Castiel purrs, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes dark and gleaming.  
  
He begins to slowly peel Dean’s shirt off, and it doesn’t take too much time for it to land on the floor with a quiet wet sound. Dean has to stand up to get rid of his jeans and underwear, the soaked material clinging uncomfortably to his legs.  
  
His face heats up at the way Castiel’s eyes track the movements of his hands when he’s unbuckling his belt. 

 

* * *

 

Dean’s lips fall open in a moan the moment he can feel Cas’s hand finally closing around him.  
  
Cas - the  _fucker_  - smiles where his lips are still pressed to Dean’s neck and begins to stroke him slowly, his grip tight and sure. The world could end right not and Dean wouldn’t be bothered to even pretend he cares. Cas’s touch is intoxicating, rough hands hot on his skin.   
  
Dean grips the edge of the bathtub and eases himself up a little, to give both of them some more space to move.   
  
He’s greeted with Cas’s wolfish grin and dark, hungry eyes. It’s a very good look on him. 

“I like to hear how much you enjoy what I am doing to you, ” Castiel’s tone would be almost conversational, if not for how low and rough his voice have gone. Dean can feel Cas’s hand on his ass, encouraging him to move. Dean hums, shifting his hips a little, and it earns him a little groan from the man underneath him. 

“ Can you feel just how much I enjoy what I am doing to you, Dean?”    
  
Oh, he can feel it perfectly, where Cas is hot and hard, brushing against his skin with their every move. He looks down and holds Cas’s gaze as he moves again,  letting Cas’s erection slowly slide between his cheeks, and this time Cas moans, the hand on Dean’s ass tightening.  
  
Blue eyes flutter close for a second, and when they open they are fever bright. Cas growls, upper lips peeling back and showing sharp white teeth, and Dean can’t remember seeing anything hotter in his entire life.    
  
“ If we were in our bed I would have you writhing on my fingers by now.”  
  
Dean shudders, and hey, this actually sounds like a plan. He reaches for Cas’s hand and tugs it closer to where he really want it to be right now. He gasps a little when he can feel Cas’s fingertips on his hole.   
  
“ Why,” Dean asks, feeling himself smile, “ would you need a bed for this?”   
  
Cas’s eyes snap to his, surprised and curious and something else, never leaving Dean’s face when he pushes his finger a little. A quiet sound escapes Cas’s mouth when his finger slips inside almost without any resistance.   
  
“ You were supposed to be home early,” the  _‘you dick’_   remains unsaid, but Dean firmly believes in Cas’s ability to hear it in his tone, “ I had plans for the evening.”   
Dean sits a little bit straighter, biting back a groan when Cas slowly push his finger all the way in.   
  
“ I thought you said you want me to writhe on your fingers,” he purrs, watching in delight as Cas’s pupils dilate, “ what are you waiting for? ”    
  
Dean thinks that whatever Cas growled out sounded suspiciously like _'you little shit_ ’, but he’s more than willing to let it slide because Cas is finally - _finally_  - moving his finger, quickly adding a second one.  
  
Dean lets out a breathless “ _fuck_ ” at the first rough thrust, Cas’s thick fingers stretching him perfectly, the slight burn exquisite. Cas lets go of Dean’s dick to grab the back of his neck and pull him down for a kiss, all teeth and tongues and hunger so raw it makes Dean shiver.  
Cas’s stubble is rough against his cheek when Cas whispers in his ear just how good he feels.   
  
Dean’s cheeks are hot, his chest flushed as much as his face is.  
  
“You are so hot there, Dean, so tight. So soft,” Cas breathes, his voice thick as honey and twice as sweet, the words of filthy adoration making Dean moan.   
Cas pushes him back a little, so he can watch Dean’s face as he eases the third finger into him, smiling lazily when Dean’s mouth falls open.   
  
His smile turns predatory when he starts to move his hands again, voice dropping impossibly lower, “ And I can’t wait to feel it on my cock.”  
  
Dean’s insides do something ridiculous at the words, heat pooling in his belly. He doesn’t even care if it sounds pathetic, he wouldn’t be able to stop the breathless 'please’ even if he tried. Dean’s hips twitch when Cas’s fingertips brush his prostate, his knuckles white where he grips the edge of the bathtub.   
  
Cas lets out a breathy laugh and then purrs, “Look at you, such a good boy, taking my fingers so well.”  
  
Dean strongly suspects that he’s going to die if Cas won’t shut up, but hey, what a way to go.  
  
He definitely feels like dying when Cas slowly withdraws his fingers, leaving Dean achingly empty - and then Dean’s breath catches in his throat because Cas is pushing back in, just this time not with his fingers.   
  
It feels amazing every single time, no matter how many times they have done it before, and Dean expresses it with a low moan.   
One that Cas’s echoes the moment he bottoms out.   
  
For a while the only sound in the bathroom is their quiet panting. Then Cas slowly puts his hands on Dean’s hips and squeezes to get his attention.  
  
“I would burn the whole city to nothing but ashes for you,” he murmurs, a dark promise and a declaration of love at the same time, coming from a man who means every single word he says, “ I would burn everyone, Dean.”  
  
Dean can feel a shiver going up his spine, and he doesn’t know what it says about him, but it makes him feel incredible. Powerful.  
  
He begins to move, slow at first, just little rolls of his hips, his hands resting on Cas’s chest.  
  
“I know,” Dean says, his voice rough, “ I know, I would wait here for you. I will always be there for you.”   
  
Cas groans, finally thrusting up while his hands pull Dean’s hips down. His “ _promise me_ ” is a low growl, and Dean obliges with a weak moan because how could he not? There’s nowhere else he would rather be than here.  
  
There never will be.  
  
His place is here, in a bathtub full of lukewarm water tinged pink with blood. With one of the most dangerous men in this country looking at Dean like he’s everything he ever wanted.  
**  
  
  
It feels divine.**

 


End file.
